


The God of Adrenaline

by TotemundTabu



Series: 30 THROBB SMUTS [18]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Biting, Bondage, Branding, Breathplay, Chastity Device, Choking, Cock Cages, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom Robb Stark, Dom/sub Undertones, Electricity, Eventual Fluff, Feminization, Hickeys, Hurt/Comfort, I mean, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Rabbits, Spreader Bars, Sub Theon Greyjoy, Top Robb Stark, Violet Wand, Vulgar Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 06:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13584690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TotemundTabu/pseuds/TotemundTabu
Summary: Almost familiar, in a way, but not fully so. He had a couple of wrinkles highlighted by the dim light of the movie, but that was it. Theon felt a weird foolish temptation to walk to the man behind him, and ask him out. And then the man's eyes widened, in recognition. His lips quivered. Theon was sure that total stranger mouthed his name, in silence, in the dark of the room. He knew his lips bent in a “Theon”. - REINCARNATION AU IN MODERN SETTING - AGE SWAP&GAP - Older!Robb





	The God of Adrenaline

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, guys, first of all... I'm sorry.   
> So, Lydia_Martin_Trash asked for: "Would you maybe write something where Robb is the older one and this is somehow a plot point?"  
> An anon had asked for a reincarnation smut (I'm glad we all know I'm the smut guy XD) and another anon said they wanted less vanilla stuff u___u so here we go.  
> Basically the idea is that you get reincarnated depending on when you die, so since Robb died first he arrived in our world way ahead of Theon :') and waited :') poor puppy. I kept his age vague, so you can all go with your personal preferred age for this ;).  
> The quote is from Adrenalize by In this Moment.

**The God of Adrenaline**

 

* * *

 

 

_I must confess, I’m addicted to this._

_Shove your kiss straight through my chest._

_I crave excess, turning wine into sweat,_

_dripping down my neck ..._

_I can’t deny, I’d die without this._

 

* * *

 

 

1.

 

Theon didn't know where they came from.

The dreams.

He had them often enough for him to perceive them as familiar, as a somewhat intimate routine – if a routine can still shake you, underneath, twist you upside down and leave you messy and lustful – but not often enough for him to consider them simple fantasies or kinks developed over time.

They more often than not contained exactly the same elements: a weird antique medieval world, which he could spot from clothes, from objects around, but that didn't feel precise nor clear, a boy, almost a man, with red hair and hairs, auburn like autumn, big, that would take control of him and... yes, that was part of it too. The control.

Theon didn't know how to accept he would have wanted to be taken over.

He always felt he kind of liked the opposite, he loved it when girls searched for him, abandoning themselves under their knees, all desperate and tender for him, needy for his cock, under his command.

They didn't know how weak he was.

They didn't know how hurt he was.

He was free, with them, not the scarred child scared of his own dad, terrified and hiding under the table or in the closet.

The idea of leaving someone the possibility to take him, to undo him, the idea itself of submission … it seemed out of the world.

But that did not make it not tempting though.

There was a part of him that woke up from those dreams devastatingly satisfied.

His cock would twitch still between wet come, and he would know.

It was the idea of being destroyed and owned and submitted by that nameless autumn boy.

But, still, that was also weird: it was always the same guy.

Theon knew that sometimes faces from dreams are just a remix of faces of strangers in your life, so, at first, he didn't bother questioning it. But how many times could the remix be exactly the same?

It was not just a redhead kink, it was indeed always the same person, the same face.

Maybe, he thought, the boy was someone he had met and his brain clung onto it, but he couldn't remember him and, god, if someone tormented his dreams so much, he would have noticed him in a room, no?

Theon moved from the bed with difficulty, as his muscles felt all weak and melted by the orgasms that pushed him through the night, and powered himself to the shower, turning it on to the coldest setting.

It burnt but he needed to wash away the desire.

He still felt shivers riding down his back and he moved slightly, trying to ignore the weird sensation of diffused heat running through his nerves.

Icy water didn't extinguish the electric flames.

There were sensations he felt, that he couldn't explain.

The way he felt he belonged to that man as if there was a thick, invisible, heavy chain on his wrists and ankles, immobilizing him, keeping him good and owned – it was unreal.

It felt wrong and right all together.

It was adrenaline.

It was just a dream, but it felt realer than anything else.

Theon sneezed, so he put the water at a warmer level, but he could feel his mind still sick with need for that nameless stranger.

He should have gone to university, he knew that skipping another lesson was bad, but the idea of sitting there, with Jeyne and Satin and Loras commenting on stuff he didn't care for, and he would have had to pretend that Loras' crush on professor Renly Baratheon wasn't just ridiculous and hopeless and Jeyne would keep speaking to him about her zodiac stuff or crystals, Satin didn't speak much, thank god, but when he did he was boring enough.

The idea of having to hear Baratheon connecting for the umpteenth time Balzac and Manzoni felt like an incredibly uselessly prolonged seppuku and Theon had enrolled in that course just for the De Sade lessons and they were nowhere near the topic and it was not really that interesting.

He pouted, leaking in the shower while putting the second round of conditioner in his hair.

He felt a weird pulse in his ass, as he imagined being pushed against the wall and fucked from behind, his voice muffled by the artificial rain.

He found his back tense with arousal at the idea and his cock twitched.

He shook his head, he needed to calm down.

What did that boring ass of Satin say last time at cinema lesson?

Oh, right... the black and white movies mornings. Why not.

 

2.

 

The first thing he realized was that the cinema was almost empty. Deserted. There were, like, three other people in the whole room.

Which was bad.

Theon had hoped to at least be in a room with enough people for him not to feel any privacy at all, which would have stopped his mind from railing off into dreams of autumn boys.

And when Terry Malloy came onscreen, Theon knew that his mind was going to be very busy and his jeans very tight. Fuck that shit, fuck the horrible need he felt to be slammed against a surface and feel a cock inside him.

He... didn't even know how that would feel, he realized.

Twenty years of life and he had fucked a bunch of girls, too many probably, considering he lost count after a while.

Which said enough.

But a man? And bottoming? Being the woman?

He was not sure why the idea intrigued him so, maybe it was for how he imagined the sensations would become overwhelming had he given up control and power and all his issues and let himself be bloomed and bred with and branded. 

He imagine it would pull and threaten to tear, except not really, and it would make him feel filled.

He wondered how empty he would have felt after.

He wondered if he would have become addicted like he saw some of his exes, with collections of toys, bigger and bigger each time, trying to recreate the ridiculous fulfilment of the first times.

But then again, Theon was watching the movie and he slowly came to realize he wouldn't have cared much for Marlon Brando himself – no, it was the redhead boy he craved. He wanted him to come to his apartment, to scold him, to kiss him against the wall …

“I didn't say I didn't love you. I said: Stay away from me.”, Theon murmured, voice low, together with Edie.

As Terry and Edie kissed, Theon found himself half-sighing and half-groaning.

He sunk deep in his chair, annoyed and horny all the same, wondering when and if he would have found a sense to those dreams.

He could still feel the heat burn through him and he found himself childish in his desires, silly, ridiculous with the need to just find a meaning to something most likely senseless.

Theon let out a sound in between a moan and a sniffle, probably easy to mistake for a frustrated sob, and suddenly there was a handkerchief next to his face.

Theon blinked.

The handkerchief was made of soft white cotton, not paper; Theon hesitated before taking it in his hands, confused yet oddly flustered.

His glance, though, ran on the hand keeping it.

No wedding ring, he noticed.

Beautiful pale hands, freckles - he smoked, probably, but they seemed soft, the bones drew thin lines, and they were big and wide. Theon's look climbed back along the arm and he turned to see all of the person the arm and handkerchief belonged to.

A man in his thirties, maybe forties, beautiful enough that Theon felt his supposed heterosexuality melt down in a pool. He couldn't see well the color of his hair in the penumbra of the cinema, but they were curly, stained with greyish locks, and the eyes were huge and light and his lips looked like they were made to be kissed.

Theon swallowed, as he felt his glance drop to the jaw – he had a pretty stubble, that would have felt amazing scraping on the base of his shaft – and then down to the neck and collarbones. He was wearing a v-neck black pullover and, god, did he look _fine_ .

Almost familiar, in a way, but not fully so.

He had a couple of wrinkles highlighted by the dim light of the movie, but that was it.

Theon felt a weird foolish temptation to walk to the man behind him, and ask him out.

And then the man's eyes widened, in recognition. His lips quivered.

Theon was sure that total stranger mouthed his name, in silence, in the dark of the room.

He knew his lips bent in a “Theon”.

And Theon felt his heart stupidly full, as it didn't make sense for it to be.

He frowned. He did look like... but so much older.

The man in front of him was in his thirties, while the one he dreamed about was... actually probably a couple of years younger than him?

It didn't make sense. At all.

And yet, he recognized something in him.

The man did the same, but stood up, as if the chair had scalded him, and started to walk out of the theatre. Theon clenched the cotton handkerchief and followed him, rushing.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

The man was almost at the revolving door when something in Theon's voice cracked, so open and wet, as if he was crying.

He was not... was he?

But his chest felt heavy and tore and his lungs laboured. It was a dull pain in the heart and the stomach. Like something broke and bled all out inside him.

“Wait, _please_.”

The man bit his lips and stopped, turning again to Theon.

His eyes were shiny too. For some absurd reason.

His lips quivered, as if he were about to find an excuse but nothing worked.

“You're... - he swallowed – Quite young.”

Theon frowned, caught back, “I'm twenty.”

“Twenty?”, the man laughed, bitterly, with a tense little smile.

“... twenty-one in March.”, he fumbled then, not knowing why he felt embarrassed.

That one shook his head and sucked his lips, just to then look at Theon. He seemed so disappointed. And yet.

“So much later, huh.”

“So much later what?”, Theon asked, now feeling unnerved and stupidly drawn to that man.

His mind wanted to flick him off but his chest was drumming and inside he just wanted to slam against him and kiss him.

A man. An older man.

In the low artificial light of the hall, though, he could see his hair. Auburn. With little grey strikes.

And blue eyes, cerulean – god, how he hated that word and yet that it was, the color of summer skies. And, god, was he handsome.

Big lips, thick neck, wide shoulders … Theon didn't even know he liked those things, or that he liked men for the matter, but fuck it.

And how he looked like an older version of the boy …

He frowned, “You... don't remember?”

Theon walked to him, “I don't remember  _what_ ?”

The man looked down, suddenly mortified, as if things made more sense – he let out a weird chuckle and breathed in, then shook his head.

“I can't tell you, I'm sorry.”

“Please, no. - Theon grabbed his hand – We know each other, don't we?”

The man seemed to find it both amusing and hurtful. As he laughed, Theon felt like he could taste his heart melted in acid in the voice.

“We did, yeah. - the corners of his mouth twitched and the smile and frown seemed so close, a thin flinch away – But if you do not remember, I can't make you.”

“Oh quit the passive-aggressiveness, dude. - he snapped – Don't give me this shitty mysterious crap and tell me when the fuck we met, if I have to dream your face again, I'll...”

The man frowned, questioning.

And Theon realized what he had said and how crazy it sounded, but before he could formulate it better, the older man lifted his chin slightly, closed his eyes, and descended on him with a warm, dark kiss.

Theon opened his mouth, welcoming him in.

His jaw clacked, as their tongue met and Theon felt it filling him.

Like a heat wave.

And he tasted like he thought the ocean would.

 

3.

 

“Do you deem I did something reckless?”

Theon scoffed and caressed his cheek, with just the softest, tenderest stubble on.

“I reckon you did what you had to, my lord.”, he said, warmly.

The boy shook his head, “Don't call me that.”

Theon's smirk widened, his dark eyes shining and he lowered himself slowly, opening the boy's breeches, freeing the boy's cock. It was big and already aching with dark need.

“Theon...”, the boy called him, weakly, half scolding, half joking, then his voice melted into a groan when Theon started stroking him.

“Yes, Robb Stark?”, a wide, wicked grin.

“I'm trying to have a serious conver-oh my fucking gods...”, he moaned.

Theon felt the cock in his mouth, sucking it, unkindly, greedily, eager to feel it harden and grow on his tongue.

And he tasted salty and Theon loved it. Robb's foam reminded him of the sea.

“Maybe I shouldn't have called the bannersme-oh fucking hell, Theon. - Robb rolled his hips, pushing in, thrusting in his mouth, trying not to go too far, to be too rough, but Theon twisted his tongue and sucked hard and he always looked at Robb like he would have so damn enjoyed him being far and rough – You're going to be the death of me one day.”

He petted Theon's dark silky hair and Theon purred on the cock, relaxing his throat to welcome it all.

Robb panted, then bit his own hand to the blood, trying not to moan, as his thrusts grew stronger. And before he realized it he was fucking Theon's throat, making the other man's eyes roll back in pleasure and bliss. He knew how much Theon loved to feel used.

He just was not sure he was okay with himself liking to use him.

He grabbed Theon's head more, pushing him closer, against his bush of pubic hair and he felt Theon moan and squirm against it, his own dick twitching, dreaming and foretasting action.

Theon's eyes were blown black with arousal, Robb's hands were hard and all his muscles tense with electric need.

“I love how hollow your cheeks look...”

Theon let out a wet whine, then his moans got muffled as Robb pushed into him, and he could feel the cock in the back of his throat, taking over him, destroying him.

“...and you love how full you feel, don't you?”

Theon nodded as he could and hummed against the cock, feeling it twitch, the head tremble, and the precome drooling warm into him. Heat poured into him, his veins throbbing.

He sucked Robb's cock clean, before letting it slide out with an obscenely wet sound.

Robb breathed out, staring at him a bit enchanted, then bowed, kissed his lover's lips softly and Theon smirked, grinned, smiled in the kiss, smug and sweet.

Robb caressed his hair, “Thank you, kind of needed that.”

Theon laughed, kissed him again, quickly, rubbing their lips for just an inch of time longer.

“And I so needed you to stop blabbering about politics for a bit.”

Robb sighed and fell on his bed, feeling the furs tickle against his naked butt cheeks.

“I don't think I am made for this lord thing.”

Theon frowned and laid on the bed next to him, “That's horseshit. You're made to lead people. - he caressed Robb's chest through the tunic – You are so... red-blooded.”

“I'm sure you meant that as a compliment. - Robb groaned, staring at the wood and stone ceiling – I just wish I was not alone.”

Theon kissed him, smirking, “You worry too much about your subjects and too little about your paramour's dick.”

Robb raised his eyebrows and snorted, “I am so mortified, my beautiful lord Greyjoy. - his hand went to Theon's breeches – Let me take care of your cock.”

He lifted Theon's chin slightly, closed his eyes, and descended on him with a warm, dark kiss.

Theon opened his mouth, welcoming him in.

His jaw clacked, as their tongue met and Theon felt it filling him.

… that kiss. Something felt abrupt and perfect and Theon opened his eyes suddenly. Robb smiled to him.

Sixteen.

And Theon blinked.

And Robb looked at him in contempt.

Adult.

Theon shook his head, squinted his eyes. His lips trembled, wet, they felt bruised and pins and needles burned on the raw softness.

He tried to speak but in Robb's eyes contempt met misery and misery melted in something else.

Something with lust mixed in.

Something with need set on fire.

And he kissed Theon again, slamming him against the theatre’s wall, while Theon held him close, ran his hands on his back, trying to keep him, to melt with him.

He felt a toxic fever run through his nerves, perverse in its foolishness.

Robb, Robb, Robb. He kissed him hard, he kept him close.

The taste he forgot and dreamed to get back was there, in his mouth, and he found himself half sobbing, overwhelmed.

He didn't even know what was going on.

It was all coming back to him.

Why was Robb so much older? He was younger? He breathed with labour, as his fingers hurt, someone took them off? Someone entered him? Someone else?

He wept, pushing into Robb's mouth while he felt Robb's hand on the small of his back and the kiss was intense and eager and... angry?

Why that fury? Why did his heart feel so heavy upon meeting again, despite happiness?

Robb bit his bottom lip to the blood and parted and Theon winced and panted and moaned.

His legs felt weak.

Robb swallowed, his Adam’s apple jumping, he had such a strict expression... he looked so disappointed.

“Did it come back?”

Theon trembled, swallowed. It felt scary and too big and too raw.

Pure, but not from innocence, from density, with suffocating, spasmodic intensity.

A purity like the one of mercury.

He gulped, dry and hard, “R...obb?”

The man nodded and breathed in, he looked annoyed and yet he didn't move away from Theon, he held still him close, trapping him against the wall, as if he had wanted to for so long …

“It will come back slowly. All at once would be too much. - he said, murmuring, sweetly, against his own will – Is your father nice... this time?”

Theon scoffed.

“If punching me purple is nice. - he touched his head, wincing – God, it hurts like fuck.”

“It's better than before, anyway.”, Robb mumbled, trying to hide a worry that crept through his throat anyway. His fingertips lingered on Theon's wrist skin.

Theon squinted his eyes, furrowed his eyebrows, “Why are you... older?”

“I died a tad bit before you. - he groaned, then let out something of a sigh – A lot before, apparently.”

“Oh.”, Theon let out, his voice sad.

And without knowing why he felt like crying.

Robb must have understood that, because he moved closer.

“I, I always thought had I met you again I would have... I don't know what, not killed you but... punched you? - his voice flinched – But then I … saw you and... I just wanted to take you back.”

“I loved you.”, Theon whispered, shaking his head.

“You killed my brothers.”

“No! - Theon screamed, so loud his lungs seemed to pop and Robb backed a moment – No. No, I know I didn't. That I know.”

Bran. Bran was the name of one. Rickon the other.

They escaped. And then? What happened after?

“... we faked that. - he breathed out, weakly, leaning on the wall, as things came back in a tide – Ramsay Snow. He...”

Robb didn't seem to care about the rest, his eyes widened and he blinked.

His lips twitched as if he wanted to smile but didn't dare to.

“You didn't do it.”

“I wouldn't have. - he whispered out – Ever. I … I know that. I can _feel it_ in my stomach? God, none of this makes sense.”

Robb's hands were on his hips again, running on the small of his back, taking him closer.

“You didn't do it.”

Theon was not even sure if it was a question or an affirmation, but the relief in Robb’s voice shook him open.

And the relief in his own chest.

As if he couldn't bear Robb not knowing.

He frowned, confused still. How deeply had he been tormented by those thoughts before?

“... did... is this some reincarnation bullshit or?”

Robb laughed, amused, tilting his head and biting his bottom lip while smiling, “Yes.”

Theon breathed out in a groan, “Well, hello, agnosticism, I didn't think I'd resort to you today, but here we go.”

Robb snorted, “I see your sense of humor went from black to nihilistic.”

“I suppose it's a generational thing, but I have a beautiful joke about dead babies and chickens, if you're willing to listen.”

Robb shook his head, his eyes lucid.

“You didn't do it.”, he repeated to himself.

Theon moved closer, he put his hands on Robb's cheeks and kissed him sweetly, madly tenderly, pulling him close.

“You look good … - Theon whispered, caressing a grey lock – Real good.”

Robb lowered his head, “Didn't you prefer me young?”

“I wanted to get old with you. - Theon said without thinking, upon remembering – I'm a bit angry you had more than ten years without me, but, seems like it was my fault.”

“I'm not that much older, c'mon...”

“Hm. - Theon grinned wickedly and kissed Robb's jaw, he kind of liked him being taller for once – You're just charmingly older.”

Robb's hand passed over his hips delicately, with an enchanted insecurity – is he here? is he alive? did we finally cross? – and with the hungry, hasty urgency of needing him close.

Robb smiled, chuckled, his eyes a bit wet.

“Hey, do you... want to... go on a date or... ?”

“Honestly? - Theon raised an eyebrow and smirked – How much do you think I changed?”

Robb laughed, relieved and happy and, all at once, quite possessive.

“My place?”

 

4.

 

Theon found he enjoyed Robb being older than him.

More experienced too.

It felt dirty and dense, rooted in the liquorish black of the earth, there was something forbidden and tempting beyond belief. The way Robb's fingers felt now, rough, indelicate, the way he claimed command even easier. 

His skin still had freckles, but this time it also had little spots, and his chest was soft, the youth pouch had changed into the soft stomach of someone who stopped training past his mid-twenties and it tasted salty and soft under his lips. Chest and stomach were gently covered in soft, tender hairs, redder than the one on his head and at the base of his cock, his young wolf's fur.

Theon remembered the queer thrill he felt the first times touching Robb, who was fifteen, sixteen – oh, now it tasted almost illegal and absurd in his mind – and how reactive he was and how quickly and how many times he came under Theon's expert fingers and against his mature lips. Now it was bigger and Theon found it as hard but way less prone to just letting him win.

Theon kissed the cock with unrefined devotion, dragging his lips on the tip, rolling his tongue on the sensitive slit, while pulling down the soft foreskin, pretasting Robb's now more dignified and constricted shivers. His groans had gotten so deep, his voice so dark, Theon felt his ass empty and needy at the idea of taking him.

He pulled his hair behind his ear and opened his mouth to take him.

He almost chocked, gagging as he went beyond half. He had to remind himself in this life he hadn't got used to it yet. His hands trembled.

It doesn’t happen often that you can experience your first cock twice.

And your first love either.

Robb caressed Theon's slick black hair. “Good boy, don't get too ahead of yourself.”

Theon felt a shiver down his spine at that, quick and dense and dark, like a blood clot in his nerves, it made his cock jump and twitch.

He lowered his eyes, but Robb saw it and smirked. God, Robb could smirk.

Robb lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, clearly enjoying the control and power he had, and smiled, asking, “Yes, babyboy?”

Theon's bottom lip quivered and he felt his hips jolt.

They were calling Robb.

A grin, Robb's teeth passed on his lip, keeping it and then, slowly, as they let it go, he let out a small groan and caressed Theon's cheekbone, softly.

Before slapping it red.

Theon's jaw jolted open and he panted. He moaned wetly.

He could feel his cock harden without much of a touch.

“Now behave. - Robb said, staring down at him, benevolent and commanding all at once – You will suck me and drink all of my come, won't you?”

Theon nodded and moved to the cock again, kissing the tip before licking it. His tongue was hot like fire and sweet as silk when he opened his lips and took him, at least in part, in the smoldering furnace of his obscenely wet mouth.

Robb threw his head back with a groan, eyes closed, and started rolling his hips, slowly, thrusting and fucking Theon's mouth, sweetly and softly, while he felt Theon hum and moan against the cock filling him. Theon rolled his eyes back, while inch after inch, Robb was pushing further, claiming the back of his throat too until Theon was not sure if it was more the lack of breath or the arousal to drag wanton moans out of him, warmer at each moment, needier.

They went on, Robb thrusting, his voice lower with each jolt– did he smoke a lot? He sounded like he did – his huge cock taking over him, and Theon's nose nuzzling against his auburn pubic hair, smelling the murky musky scent of sweat and arousal. 

When Robb came down his throat, Theon's only regret was not tasting it on his tongue. He rolled his eyes back and let his tongue and jaw drop, while Robb pulled out, with a drenched plop and left him panting, strings of come and saliva on his mouth and his reddened lips.

Robb's hand stroked his head of hair.

“Good boy, good.”

Theon smiled, closing his eyes, as he rested his head against Robb's hand.

“Daddy wants to give you a nice reward now.”

Theon swallowed, feeling his throat tight and his Adam's apple jump.

Theon hoped to have it inside him, but he then realized Robb had moved to a drawer next to the bed. He threw some stuff on the bed: lube, wrist cuffs, bars, some oblong toys … Theon frowned, confused, but not at all against it.

“Am I your first man in this life?”, Robb asked, looking between his pockets.

He still had the shirt and tie on, but he relaxed the knot and popped open the first button, bending his neck to the side.

He had his hair longish for an office man still, he tried to keep them in place, but Theon felt the most aroused by the rebel locks on the front, slipping free on his forehead.

“Yes. - he admitted, passing his hands on the handcuffs, licking his lips in anticipation – The other time too.”

But he knew it was different, this time.

Because Robb was a complete virgin when they had sex in the past.

This time instead, he seemed to know what he wanted and how and to which extent way better, and he seemed to love the new limits this world gave to his hunger for control.

Robb took a cigarette and put it in his mouth, then lit it up.

“Red, yellow, green?”

“How banal.”

“I've always been banal.”, Robb said, before sitting on the bed again, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, glance intense on Theon's wrists, as he took the leather wrist cuff and tired them on him, tight. They had two little hooks and Robb pinned Theon's arms behind his back, to the bed bars.

“Stay still, sweetheart.”, he half murmured, his voice thick and coarse, while the cigarette was getting slightly consumed between his lips.

Theon squirmed and moaned, as a bit of ashes and sparks fell on his naked chest, burning just for an instant.

Robb clasped the hooks together just beyond the bed bar, so that Theon was effectively chained to it. Theon felt a wild thrill burn his nerves.

Robb kissed him then, eager, greedy, bruising his abused lips, dragging blood out of them, filling his mouth to the brim and brink with his huge tongue and feeling Theon squirm and moan against him.

Robb could taste himself in him.

Theon's dick was twitching, threatening to harden again.

“Do you remember what you said the first time we made love thousands of years ago?”, Robb asked.

Theon panted, shaking his head, eyes closed, mouth pursed, lips searching for Robb.

And Robb gave to Theon's now freed and still soft cock a slow stroke, but then took a toy from the bed, one Theon didn't recognize until Robb secured it on him with a plastic clack.

He panted, feeling it constricting him, the cold plastic cage enveloping his cock.

“You come so much. - he mocked Theon's old cocky and smug voice – Should I get a chastity belt for you, green boy?”

Theon regretted for a second his past arrogant ways, but it was brief, soon the arousal of being treated that way subdued every doubt.

Robb put his hand into Theon's mouth with no ceremonies and licked along his jugular, much like a predator softening the meat. Then his lips sucked, hard.

And it was a numb, round and searing pain.

He felt blood rush from his veins, splatter purple behind the thin veil of his skin, trying to submerge, to raise, to reach Robb's lips like wine for the cup of his mouth.

His eyes shot open and he moaned and drooled a whimpered, muffled whine against Robb's big fist, when he felt Robb's teeth sink in.

They tore and bit and left little red moon bitemarks on the purple bruised pools.

Robb looked at him with the bluest look he had ever seen.

Arousal thick inside him and yet he was checking if Theon was fine.

The corner of Theon's mouth twitched, “Harder, daddy, please.”

Robb licked his lips and slapped Theon across his face, leaving a five fingered mark.

Theon found himself breathless and just choked a little moan, before he felt his mouth tremble again in need, as Robb's hand cupped his free balls and caressed them, alternating softness to a slight squeeze.

“You're so pretty, Theon, such a cute sight.”

He sucked his lips, staring at Robb, curious.

“I'm going to have some fun with you.”

He spread Theon's legs, caressing his ankles, kissing his calves and thighs softly – his curls brushed Theon's balls, making him twitch and squirm his hips. He tied his legs to a spreading bar and then massaged softly Theon's inner tight, the lagoon of his crotch, the hills of his balls.

“Have you been a good kid?”

Theon sucked his lips, and then screamed, when Robb extinguished his cigarette on his Iliac crest.

Pain turned to bliss, as he felt his sensitive skin alight and get branded.

Robb threw the cigarette away and licked and sucked the spot, Theon threw his head back, hiding behind his bent arm, moaning.

“More?”

Theon nodded, weakly.

“Are you daddy's ashtray?”

Theon panted, “Brand me.”

Being marked, possessed – like an animal, lower than an animal. Cattle.

It was searing pain and bottomless pleasure.

“I have a better thing for that. - Robb mumbled, low, his lips softly kissing Theon's balls, as they grew tight and heavy, while the cage felt constricting around his cock – I could eat you up.”

“I missed you too.”, Theon replied, unsure which life he was speaking of.

Both, probably.

Robb then grabbed something long, similar to a wand with a sort of curved Y head. It shone violet.

Robb raised an eyebrow, “Green, yellow, red?”, he repeated.

Theon sighed, rolled his eyes, then smirked, “I know what to say if I don't like it.”

“This babyboy knows the rules well.”

“I want daddy to be proud of me.”, he said, half-smug, half-mocking, all-aroused.

At first, it felt like fizzing. Almost bubbles. Then it grew to tingles, they ran from his hips to his lower stomach, as Robb descended.

Theon squirmed, writhed, as Robb started using it on his legs and thighs.

Shock. That thing was electric.

And, god, it felt so good. He was being thunderstruck by pleasure.

He bit lips and chocked back moans, while Robb pushed the intensity up slowly, drawing more and more pleasure out of him.

Tingles turned to thunder that turned to pure raw pleasure.

Theon's cock was twitching, trying to harden in the cage, his ass was desperately empty, his toes and feet tense, his eyes filled with tears.

His skin was growing oversensitive and hungry for it at the same time.

The shocks grew sharp and, Robb kept checking on his face, his mouth, as to make sure he would have been able to stop in case.

But Theon, he was unsure why, didn't seem to have any actual hate for that pain. It felt like something mild, sweet, needed.

It was the summer heat scorching his skin.

Robb passed the wand as close as possible without touching Theon's balls; and Theon jumped, his legs hardening and stiffing on the spreading bar, his voice melting into a puddle of lustful moans.

He sounded obscenely high-pitched.

He barely could recognize his own voice.

Robb's voice seemed so hard and composed, the opposite of his.

“Do you want daddy to brand you, sweetheart?”

Theon panted, he swallowed. His voice felt so hoarse. His neck pulsed from the bruises Robb had left.

Adrenaline was making him insane.

“Please.”

“ _Beg me_.”

Theon felt his cheeks burn.

He always loved when Robb asked him to beg, and he hated it at the same time. He felt so humiliated and that was a double edged sword: he loved feeling how Robb submitted him, how he broke his pride, but he always felt like his father would have loathed him for it … 

He had had a father, didn't he? A bad one.

“Beg daddy, Theon. - Robb kissed his pelvis and hip bones – Daddy will be so proud to brand his bitch.”

He writhed, clenching his eyes shut, and with hoarse voice, he screamed.

“Please, mark me. - _Don't let me go this time, keep me, don't let me fall to ruin_ , he thought, wildly – I belong to you, claim me.”

Robb changed the purple head to a different one and Theon sucked his lips, preparing for pain.

But, before branding him, Robb instead put a generous dose of lube on his other hand and started to circle the soft rim of muscles of Theon's asshole.

Theon gasped, bit his lips.

For a moment, he wanted to tell Robb to stop. He was not sure how clean he was, how good it would be, he felt ashamed … how many lovers had this older Robb had? Did he prefer some to him? He had passed from zero competition to twenty years of it.

A finger slid in and heat took over.

Theon moaned out loud, throwing his head back in bliss.

It felt so hot and so good, his flesh turning to melted fire.

Robb smiled, satisfied – how he liked to play, didn't he? – and started to move, in and out, slowly, then faster, until Theon shouted moans one after the other, higher and higher, less and less dignified.

He knew how he sounded.

Like a fucking slut.

Robb added a second finger and Theon could feel a very slight stretch, the fingers claiming him inside, and it twisted in him a pervert desire.

He started to push his hips, as he could, between the spreader and the tied wrists, moving back, following Robb's fingers, fucking himself on them.

Such a greedy slut.

For a moment he wished Robb called him that.

Instead he cooed, “What a good boy you are... so eager to please.”

Theon nodded and, when Robb bent his fingers slightly, burying them to the knuckles, and caressed a spot, he widened his eyes and saw white.

It was such a familiar and yet new pleasure.

It felt ancestral and he missed it, he had missed it like crazy, and yet he had never felt it before.

The purest, rawest, lowest bliss took him, as he fucked himself while Robb brushed him inside, that spot sending sparks down his spine.

Pleasure took over every muscle and every nerve he had.

And only when Theon's voice was just a hot mess of whines and lewd moans, that Robb lowered on his stomach the new electrode.

The intensity sent Theon to heaven and he let out his tongue and squirmed.

A condensed electric twist marked him across the stomach and he slammed his hips harder on Robb's fingers, hitting that spot over and over.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please. - he bit his lips, panted, cried – I'm your thing now, daddy.”

It sounded almost like an accusation: I'm yours, take care of me, only you can.

Robb loved that.

He turned off the electrode, putting the wand by side, and contemplated the good nice sign left on Theon's skin, and then, without taking away his fingers from inside Theon's ass, he moved his now free hand again on Theon's ball, squeezing, squishing gently.

Heat flushed through Theon's cheeks, while a drunkenly happy smile widened on his face.

“Still green?”, Robb asked, half-incredulous.

“You're so afraid to hurt me... - Theon whispered, delight in his voice, as if he was just laying on a beach of bliss – But I feel like a god.”

Robb smiled, then he kissed Theon's inner thigh, lovingly.

He buried a third finger in his ass, prodding at that sweet, forbidden spot, rubbing it, teasing it, hitting it, while his other hand and stubble tormented Theon's balls and tenderest tigh flesh.

Theon could feel himself surging and smoldering in a scorching pleasure that twisted in his core.

And the more Robb hit there, the more he felt his.

Taken over. Completely.

Robb then pressed it, almost painfully, almost wonderfully. And Theon arched himself and writhed in a frenzy of feverish shivers and lewd moans.

His blood burnt out. Pleasure melted him down.

He came, through the cage, in white milked drops, whining indescribably.

He came just from his ass.

Shame took his cheeks, but when Robb teased and prodded again, again he came, this time with a scream and unable to stop his hips from rolling against Robb, craving him, taking him.

And a third time.

From his soft, imprisoned cock, weak white come dripped out.

Robb chuckled, elated, enchanted. He took the caged cock in his hands and tilted it slightly, then inserted just the tip of his tongue into the little space the cage allowed, and the tip teased Theon's oversensitive pulsing red cockhead, making him arch again, his toes twisting and tensing with the overwhelming touch.

“Ow. - Robb chuckled – I see my baby boy can also be a good girl and come from his pussy alone.”

That comment gave Theon the darkest shivers.

And he then decided to stop counting the things he shouldn't have been aroused by but that definitely aroused him regardless.

“Can I have daddy's cock now?”

Robb looked down to his pants: he was definitely hard, but he didn't want to stop playing yet.

He showed him something that Theon recognized. From his ex girlfriends.

“A... rabbit?”

He was about to protest, out of incredulity more than anything, what did Robb think a thing like that could do for him? He didn't have a clit.

“Green?”

“Green.”

And Robb inserted it – it was bigger than the fingers, taking more space, filling him more than he knew it could, but Theon was well aware it was less than Robb's cock. Maybe he wanted to prepare him?

When he felt the little bunny ears on his balls, he understood he had been blind.

And when Robb turned it on, Theon let out a long unravelled river of moans.

Libidinous, lascivious, lecherous.

Lust had taken him, made him melt and, while Robb upped the power, stronger and stronger, angling the toy to touch his prostate and balls at the same time, Theon felt any of his limits dissolve in a dissolute fulsome crave.

Robb left the toy in and moved up, returning to Theon's face and kissing his jawline, his neck, tenderly and voraciously preying on it. He kissed the side, sucked again, drew new bruises and hickies of purple and red on the skin, sank his teeth into the flesh, turning Theon's moans mute with uttermost bliss.

And then his right hand went on Theon's neck, pressing on his carotid.

The wolf was at his jugular. And it felt so good.

Theon felt his head light, euphoria kicking through him as his breath faltered. Robb put pressure on his sides, adrenaline rushed and washed over and inside him.

He felt his mind whitening, pleasure kicking, his ass welcoming, sucking in the vibrator, his balls trembling, his throat clenched harder and harder by Robb.

His eyes were almost black, blown by desire. And possession.

Control, power, ownership.

Pleasure throbbed through his veins, thrummed in his nerves, and as oxygen missed in his body, as air clacked in his throat and blood felt like a drug, he was one second from fainting.

It felt too good, just too fucking good, not to faint.

Robb's left hand went down and unlocked his cock chastity cage, letting his cock out, and Theon immediately felt it twitching and jumping, craving contact.

But Robb left it to be desperate for it.

His lips were on Theon's ear.

“Green?”

Theon nodded weakly.

And then Robb slapped his cock. Once, twice, thrice.

Theon tried to moan, to scream, but his voice came out breathless, mute, his mouth just opened, trembled, abused kiss-swollen red lips, and bruise stains at the side.

He looked so lewd, so obscene.

Robb slapped the cock again. Harder this time, and then quickly, pressed the vibe to make it go faster.

Theon squirmed, writhed, arched, his hips were jolting, his eyes wide.

He would arch himself like a bridge, just needing to be reduced to rumble.

And just as Theon felt pleasure build so drumming in his mind, as he was vacillating on the edge of fainting, Robb left his throat.

Air came to him and felt stronger, harder, his whole body was oversensitive for an instant, when Robb grabbed the vibe and slammed it, maximum force, in and out quickly, against his prodding swollen prostate and balls.

His cock hard so bad and then soft again in a matter of minutes, as Theon came with an absurd scream, sperm spilling out of him in desperate ribbons.

Theon panted, tears of overwhelmed oversensitive override pooling in his eyes, when Robb kissed his cheekbones and then his eyelids, softly.

His stubble scratched and caressed Theon's skin.

Robb's voice sounded constricted, tense.

Theon's eyes tried to focus on the red of his hair, he met also the grey.

“...good?”

Theon just breathed out, in awe.

“Incredible.”

Robb let out a sigh of relief.

His anxious and protective side never changed... good to know. Theon smiled, then nuzzled against him, kissing Robb's nose.

“Will you fuck me now?”

Robb scoffed, “Are you bossing me around?”

“Only if you will punish me for it.”, Theon promised.

Robb seemed amused, and he ran his fingers on Theon's lips, pressing his thumb on them, contemplating how well it pressed. His eyes gleamed, wicked sirens, azure darkness, singing mute to him about desire.

And Theon sucked the thumb, devotedly, obediently.

Slow and welcoming, like water with the swan.

Robb moved away from him, went between his legs and, grabbing both the spreading bar and his legs, he lifted Theon, basically folding him in two, so that Theon had an extremely embarrassing close-up of his own leaking hard cock, right in front of him, while his butt was up in the air.

Blood was rushing to his head making the thrill grow, and Robb tied with a lock the spreading bar to the bed bars, securing Theon in position.

Robb took the vibe out of Theon's soft ass and started fingering him again, slowly, curling in, teasing and tormenting the soft flesh. Theon felt his balls pull tighter, his cock craving attention, pulsing for it, dripping down on his own face.

Theon winced as he felt the rim of his abused hole crave some rest, while the rest of his body just longed to be wrecked open.

Robb caressed Theon's butt cheeks and parted them, placing himself against his entrance.

Theon could feel the large head and then the wide shaft, heavy against him.

_It will tear me apart_ , Theon thought, ecstatic.

Robb swallowed and poured more lube on his cock – it dripped cold down Theon's thigh and hip and the shivers felt so awfully good.

Robb's soft hips moved closer and he moved down from above, driving his head in.

Theon squirmed, tried to arch, to wiggle, but the position had him stuck unprotected to receive all the pleasure and the widening girth.

Heat.

Smoldering heat ran through him, he felt his ass open and melt in flames that did not burn nor hurt.

But the sensation of warmth almost sent him on the edge, and Theon whined and moaned, his tongue out, tasting droplets of his own precome leaking, while, inch after inch, Robb tried to slowly enter him.

He was almost too big at fifteen and he was definitely so now.

Yet the stretch was bliss, the fullness rapture.

Robb claimed him slowly, sinking balls-deep into the soft ass and then, slower, almost exiting, just to slam back, harder, fuller.

Theon chocked on a moan and trembled out the neediest scream.

Robb slammed through Theon's hips, tearing him delightfully, enlarging his ass wide and greedy. Titillation spiced his spine, arousal kicked his nerves.

“You're so tight... - Robb groaned, thrusting harder, aiming at the sweet spot of before, enjoying seeing Theon's constricted hips jolt and jerk desperately – So fucking tight.”

Theon panted, moaned, his voice getting more twisted and high with each of Robb’s thrusts.

He felt pleasure reverberate and echo inside his nerves, his flesh squeezed in need.

Greed poured through him.

Arousal washed over him, brushing his skin, his oversensitive cockhead throbbing for release.

Robb's hips found a rhythm and he rolled them, over and over, brushing, hitting the prostate, mercilessly, ruthlessly precise, time after time, taking pride in how hard Theon clenched around him, as to beg that cock to stay in, to stain him, to bang him deeper.

Theon came again, in ardent droplets that fell over his face.

He felt shame staining his cheeks red, but it soon got buried behind his own lewd screams, as Robb drilled into him, hard and fast, rough.

He heard his voice distant, turning into a messy puddle of begging.

More, more, more.

Robb's eyes were heavy with a glance as dense as pure lead, the anger of decades and love of centuries, it all melted together, in his animalistic pounding.

Robb's hair attached to his forehead with sweat and Theon smiled a twisted, elated smile, letting his head fall back, while he felt the familiar feeling of another orgasm build up, this time dry, that got dragged out of him with persistent slams and pleasure sizing him.

While he trembled in the afterglow, Robb's hard cock pushed harder into him, then erratic – his hands clenched hard on Theon's hips, marking them.

And Robb branded him again, coming inside him with a low growl.

His softening cock was still inside, huge and throbbing out come, when Theon, panting, glanced at him.

He felt light-headed and dizzy with blood.

“Was I good, daddy?”

Robb slipped out, moving to the locks to free Theon's legs and wrists, and bowed to him, kissing him wildly and full, filling his mouth.

“You were perfect, babyboy. - he kissed his nose – Now let me take care of you.”

Theon's eyes smiled and he figured, this time, in this life, he had to say it first.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. - Robb murmured, low voiced, caressing his bruised jugular – Always had, always will.”

 

5.

 

Theon woke up screaming.

It was piercing and excruciatingly jarring. A strident shrill through the night.

Robb woke up and held him tight, kissing him, while Theon just trembled, shaking his head desperately, crying loudly.

“No, no, no, please, stop...”

He begged in sobs, louder and louder.

Robb caressed his hair and whispered in his ears, “Theon, Theon, calm down... it was a dream, I'm here with you.”

But he knew he was not a dream.

He remembered well the first time his death came back to him.

Theon panted, shaking, shivering, “No, not my fingers, please, no, no...”

Robb held him and then grabbed Theon's hand and lifted it up so Theon could stare at it.

“Hey, hey, look. - he said then, kissing his forehead, until Theon looked – One, two... - he accompanied his words while caressing each single finger – Three, four, and five.”, he smiled.

Then, while moving behind Theon, enveloping him, he took the other hand and placed it over that.

“You see? Other five. No finger missing.”

Theon blinked and nodded, slowly.

It didn't matter what he knew, in that instant he was half somewhere else.

“...toe...s?”

Robb uncovered Theon's feet from the blanket and kissed his forehead.

“Ten also there. - he murmured – They are all there.”

Theon nodded slowly, before cuddling up in Robb's held and slowly relaxing, until he fell asleep next to his chest.

His throat kept clenching in his sleep, he shivered and had restless agitated twitching, so Robb held him and caressed him through the night, cupping him, scooping his whole body against his. And Theon felt safe, again.

Despite those images, those sounds, and also the pain coming back.

And when the morning after came, he tried to kick it back in the gutter of his mind – he remembered the physical horror, the way his bones hurt, how his teeth were ruined beyond use, the taste of rats, but he remembered also what the most painful part was, the knife burning and cutting his guts open from inside out.

“I should have died with him”.

But he was with Robb again, then. And it took too long, but it didn't matter. Not at all, not this time.

For once, he understood himself and how that numb discomfort, that sort of perpetual sullen direness in his muscles and in the deepest part of his brain, the one that never went away, not even as he was balls-deep in a sweet blonde or with his cock stroked to perdition between the softest jugs, fell in place. How it made sense. 

In some contorted way.

But he was twisted too, gnarled in the soul, convoluted beyond what's human, so it made only sense that his love too had to be that way.

Theon sipped coffee from a mug, staring as Robb got dressed after the shower.

There was an undoubtedly inebriating light-hearted thrill in being alone with Robb in an apartment not shared with all the rest of the Stark family ready to potentially behead him. And, of course, the idea of not being in his home also felt quite delightful.

He was not fully sure yet what his past life was like with his family, but this one was not a walk in the park.

Robb's scent on the sheets was soothing, calming, as a summer storm easing the heat on leaves, and Theon welcomed the memory of the taste of Robb's skin, trapped in his mind as holy relics, granting him sanity.

He glanced at the brand left on his stomach, caressing it slightly. Robb had put ointment over it and kissed it, then passed to licking his bellybutton and sucking the soft skin of his pelvis.

He glanced at Robb's dark blue suit, how it matched his eyes.

“So. - he smirked – Are you going to leave me here alone all day?”

Robb turned and smiled, “If the princess pleases, she can play with anything in the drawers until daddy comes home.”

“The princess should go to university.”

“That's a shame. - his lips crooked, then he moved to Theon and their lips brushed against each other – A real shame.”

Theon felt his cock twitch, his breath skip, as he stared at him.

He was so handsome.

He caressed the hair on the back of Robb’s neck, combing it with his fingers, and he smiled at Robb's hand wrapping and besieging his waist, pulling him close.

“When do you finish lectures?”

“6 pm...”, he murmured against Robb's lips, as they almost touched his, but the void tormented and stormed between them.

Pins and needles.

Alight.

And Theon knew then, what it was like for those ravens that kept returning after Luwin's death.

Theon knew what it was like to have a home.

“What if I come to take you? - Robb asked, then, honeyed and raw – Do you like French cuisine in this life?”

 


End file.
